Alex Rider Drabbles
by Mortal Instrument
Summary: Set after Scorpia Rising and Yassen is still alive! Alex is fifteen/sixteen, and freelance (works for pretty much anyone). Yassen is freelance but mainly works for MI6. Fluff, Alex hurt *NO SLASH* series of NON-SEQUENTIAL One-Shots. The 3rd chapter has been updated and the fourth one is in the process of being redone. Enjoy!
1. Fever

**Disclaimer: I don't own Alex Rider…kinda obvious…**

**A/N: there is no slash**

Yassen looked over at the prone figure of the boy on the cot. The boy twisted and moaned as Yassen got up and crossed the room to his side. He crouched down pressing a hand against Alex's forehead, turning the light touch into a soft caress pushing back the boy's dirty blond locks. Yassen turned and dipped a rag into the pail of clean, slightly cool water and wiped it across Alex's forehead and cheeks.

At the touch, Alex woke up, his eyes flickering open to gaze blearily at

Yassen.

"How are you?" Yassen asked quietly.

"Everything hurts," whispered Alex, swallowing weakly and struggling to sit up.

Yassen swallowed, knowing it was bad if Alex was admitting any pain, and slid an arm around his back, helping the kid into a sitting position. He gave Alex a sip of water and then settled the boy against his chest. If Alex didn't have a 103degree fever, he probably would've resisted the contact, instead he leaned back, savoring Yassen's arms around him.

"S-s-sorry" Alex mumbled.

"What for?" asked Yassen, worried.

"Holding us up. Holding _you_ up."

"Shhh…don't say anything else" whispered Yassen, rubbing Alex's back comfortingly.

"I am…" persisted Alex, twisting around.

"Be quiet" said Yassen, his voice tinged with worry.

"It must be bad, huh?" asked Alex, abruptly changing the subject.

"What?" Yassen asked, suddenly caught off guard.

"I-I-I'm really sick. You're being nice to me" Alex said softly.

"No, no you're not" Yassen said, mentally trying _not _to think about the fact that he had already used almost all of the medicine in the survival pack as well as the extra Tylenol and antibiotics in the hut.

Alex just sighed, snuggling unconsciously against Yassen. The assassin smiled, tightening his grip around Alex and thinking back to when he had found Alex after Scorpia.

_A deserted alley in Vienna. The boy was freezing cold, soaking wet, and limping. He had a gun in one hand, which he waved at Yassen. 'Get back' he snapped. _

_Yassen stared in shock, 'Alex?!'_

_Alex just glared 'move away!'_

_Yassen moved forward slowly, considering the fact that Alex's face was too pale and that he was shivering violently. Yassen lunged forward grabbing Alex around the waist with one arm and knocking the gun out of his hand with the other. Alex struggled for a few moments until he sagged against Yassen, exhausted. Yassen stood up, carrying Alex and walked away…_

Yassen snapped back from the flashback, startled by Alex's quiet moan. He checked Alex's temperature, realizing it had risen in the past few moments. Yassen reached for the last bottle of liquid Tylenol and a slightly clean spoon. He woke Alex, gently shaking the kid's shoulder.

"I need you to open your mouth."

Alex opened his mouth willingly, pushing himself to sit upright, leaning against Yassen's chest. He grimaced at the taste of the medicine, but swallowed it. A few minutes later Alex drifted off and Yassen gently lay the boy back down and pulled the MI6 files on Alex he had copied. Yassen smirked as he read the files on all of the boy's previous missions; Alex was obviously John Rider's son.

A few hours later, Alex woke up again, surprisingly lucid.

"I'm going to die, right?" he asked quietly.

Yassen just stared, "would I lie to you?"

Alex gave a watery smile, despite the pain and replied "of course."

Yassen shook his head in exasperation "go back to sleep", he turned away only to spin around as Alex fumbled for his hand.

"Please don't leave" he looked up at Yassen with puppy dog eyes.

There was a ghost of a smile as Yassen sat back down on the rickety cot and gathered Alex into his arms, knowing that their world had no room for this luxury or comfort. Alex immediately wrapped burning limbs around Yassen, clinging on as hard as he could. Yassen ran his hand up and down Alex's back, feeling the burning sweat and ragged breathing of the boy.

"Don't leave me" Alex whispered into Yassen's neck.

"I won't. I promise."

**Hope you enjoyed! Please review if you feel so inclined!**


	2. Sick and Tired

**Disclaimer: **_**same as always!**_

**Summary: **_**Alex is sick and tired of MI6 manipulating him and just wants everything to be over. Fortunately Yassen is there, but can he save Alex before it's too late?**_

Alex sighed, leaning against the train window. He was completely oblivious to any of the passing scenery. It was only three hours after his last mission and MI6 wanted him to report back.

"Paddington Station! Paddington Station, next stop!" the conductor called as he came through the train compartments. Alex stretched and slowly stood up, pulling his backpack down from the overhead. The train pulled in and Alex got off, pushing his way through the crowd toward the Tube. He paused for a moment watching as one of the Tube trains came down the track. Almost, without thinking, Alex stepped forward off the platform only to be yanked back by two strong arms around his torso.

"Alex? What are you doing?!" snapped an angry voice in his ear. He was brusquely spun around, still trapped in his rescuer's arms. A very upset Yassen glared at him.

"You are coming with me now."

Everything was starting to catch up with Alex and he sagged in Yassen's arms, allowing the assassin to pretty much carry him the entire way to the car park. Once inside Yassen's silver Porsche, Alex slumped in the seat without bothering to use the seat belt. Yassen slid into the driver's seat and rolled his icy blue eyes as he looked over at Alex, who sat in the passenger seat listlessly staring at nothing. Reaching over Alex, Yassen buckled the boy in, noticing the fact that Alex didn't quite seem to notice anything.

Fifteen minutes later, Yassen eased Alex out of the car and started to carry him into the apartment, despite Alex's weak protests.

"Let go of me! I can walk" Alex suddenly became animated and started to thrash against Yassen's arms. Alex turned as much as he could and punched Yassen in the chest and shoulder.

"Easy little Alex. Relax" Yassen turned his face to avoid the harmless blows Alex was pummeling on the assassin. Alex continued to struggle until Yassen set him down on the couch. Alex waited until Yassen had gone into the kitchen, and then snuck towards the door, not realizing Yassen was just coming down the hallway. When he saw the boy fumbling with the locks on the door, Yassen sprinted forward, seizing Alex and throwing him to the floor. Alex's temple struck the floor and he lay stunned for a moment as Yassen quickly bound his wrists together with a thin rope. Yassen carried Alex back into the living room and set him back down on the sofa.

"Stay there" he ordered, ignoring Alex's slightly glassy glare.

He was back in a minute with two cups of coffee and a blanket. The blanket was carefully draped around Alex's shoulders as Yassen took a cup of coffee and set the other one down on the table.

"Tell me what the hell's going on."

Alex avoided Yassen's cold stare and didn't answer him.

"Alex…"

"It was everything…I'm sick and tired of MI6. I wanted it to be over. I've lost everything, Jack, Sabina…" Alex whispered, trying not to let his emotions show.

"I know the feeling" Yassen said softly and reached forward, cupping his hand under Alex's chin and pulling the boy's head up to look him in his face. Something in Alex broke and released a flood of tears. Yassen sat there, waiting as Alex cried himself out. When the boy had calmed down sufficiently pulling Alex into his lap, resting his head on Alex's and stroking the boy's soft blond hair.

"Here. Take a sip" Yassen held a mug of coffee up to Alex's lips. The boy took a swallow, ignoring the slight burning sensation of the too hot coffee in his throat. Yassen managed to coax Alex into drinking the entire cup. After a few minutes Alex started to blink drowsily and sway in Yassen's arms.

"What did you give me?" Alex slurred, his eyelids fluttering weakly.

"Just go to sleep little Alex" Yassen soothed, watching as Alex succumbed to the drug. He waited until Alex was completely unconscious, checked Alex's bonds and draped a blanket over the boy, leaving him sleeping on the couch.

The next morning Alex woke with a slight headache. He stumbled into the kitchen looking blearily at Yassen who was sitting at the counter reading the newspaper.

"What time is it?"

"Oh, you're awake. Cereal's on the counter" Yassen smiled.

Alex went over and helped himself, coming over to sit across from Yassen. Yassen lowered the newspaper and looked over at Alex.

"How are you?" he asked softly.

"Better."

Yassen nodded, returning to his newspaper, knowing that Alex would never be fully alright. He had seen too much for any teenager.

**A/N: **_**So I know a lot of people wanted me to continue the first one shot of this series, but the problem is I tend to get bored with a story if I do more than one or two chapters! So I am sticking to one shots and drabbles, but if anyone wants to continue it…just PM me! Anyway please don't forget to review and enjoy! **_


	3. Shoulder Shot

**Summary: Alex is on a mission from an unknown agency. He finds his target, but the plan sort of misfires. Instead, Alex is the target. (No character death)**

Alex sprinted down the narrow alley, mentally cursing, and threw himself over the chain-link fence and ducked, crouching behind a dumpster. He could hear light footsteps growing closer as he frantically tried to reload his gun.

Alex was supposed to have been out of Budapest by now, but he had missed his opportunity to kill and now this unknown corporation was punishing him by making him stay until his job was done. Alex sprang up from behind the dumpster and fired a few warning shots. He ducked down again, listening with bated breath for more footsteps. There were none and Alex let out his breath and relaxed, only to jerk straight up as a bullet ripped into his left shoulder. He didn't even know he was screaming until someone clamped a hand over his mouth. He looked up and saw someone very familiar standing over him. Yassen Gregorovich.

"I thought you were dead! Wait-are you my target?!" Alex cried.

The assassin firmly tied something over Alex's shoulder, and kept a hand over his mouth as Alex winced and almost passed out from the pain. He could see that Yassen was pulling something from the backpack he had and started to struggle, barely mindful of the fiery pain in his shoulder.

"Easy little Alex" the assassin murmured as he pressed a cloth soaked with chloroform over Alex's nose and mouth. After a minute Alex went limp and his eyes rolled back as Yassen stood up, carefully sliding his arms under Alex's back and knees. He carried Alex over to his car and placed the boy in the passenger seat buckling the seatbelt over him.

Yassen drove as fast as he dared, knowing he would have to treat the bullet wound as soon as possible, and praying that Alex wouldn't go into shock. If he did, then Yassen would be forced to take him to the hospital and, in his opinion, doctors always asked too many questions and were more of a problem than a help.

He pulled into the parking lot at the Budapest harbor. His yacht was tied at one of the private moorings. Yassen scooped Alex up and carried the unconscious boy onto the yacht. He knew Alex would probably try to escape, even with a bullet in his shoulder so he lay Alex on a bed in the room closest to his own and locked the door, though he suspected locks would not hinder a MI6-trained agent. Yassen came back with bandages, sedatives, and any sort of medical supplies. He spent the next hour and a half cleaning, disinfecting, and bandaging the wound. Yassen filled an IV with fluids and slid the needle into Alex's wrist.

Sighing, Yassen gazed down at the unconscious teen's face. He knew Alex would probably be awake in an hour, and he honestly knew that Alex would be terrified if he woke up with no one he knew. On his way out of the room, Yassen was still puzzling over the words Alex had said to him in the alley, and forgot to lock the door.

Alex woke up sooner than Yassen expected, turning his head weakly, to glance around the room. With a soft groan Alex sat up and pulled out his IV, ignoring the small dot of blood that appeared on his arm. He swung his legs over the side of the bed and pushed the blankets back. Alex shakily stood up and stumbled towards the door, trying not to make any noise. To his surprise the door was unlocked and didn't make a sound when it opened. Alex was tiptoeing through the living quarters when he noticed the person sitting on the couch reading a book and listening to an iPod. Alex figured that the person wouldn't hear him if he stayed quiet.

"Alex" the person said and Alex froze. He turned slowly to see Yassen calmly walking towards him. Everything spy-related in Alex took over and he ran, sprinting down a corridor, ignoring the fact that his breaths were starting to hitch and his shoulder was starting to throb again.

"дерьмо (shit)!" Yassen ran after Alex, knowing the boy wouldn't get far with his shoulder. He finally caught up with Alex, grabbing Alex's good arm and spinning him around. Alex glared at him, and aimed a kick at Yassen's stomach. In a quick motion Yassen had Alex lying on his stomach and trapped between Yassen's legs. He uncapped a syringe in his pocket and jabbed the needle into Alex's lower back. Alex weakened almost immediately and drooped in Yassen's arms. He smiled ruefully, looking down at Alex's slack face. One thing was for sure, looking after a teenage spy, especially Alex, was not going to be easy.


	4. I thought you were done

**Summary: **_**Alex is swimming through an underwater tunnel to a compound when his oxygen supply runs out. Fortunately Yassen is there, his target being the same as Alex's.**_

_Kick and pull. Kick and pull. Kick and pull._ Alex repeated these directions over and over in his head as he swam. The tunnel was completely black and Alex had to physically feel and grope his way along.

He paused for a moment and as he started to swim again, Alex found he couldn't move forward or backward. Alex started to panic, thrashing and kicking even though he knew it wouldn't help. The inky darkness surrounding him was painful, but after a few minutes, he forced himself to calm down.

He took a few deep breaths, only then remembering his oxygen supply was limited. Alex reached up and fumbled at the top of his oxygen tank.

Then, he realized his hose was caught on a rock point at the top of the tunnel.

Alex tried to push the hose off, but for some reason it was too tightly stuck. He forced himself to slow down, and think.

He had started swimming almost an hour ago and since the swim was only to take an hour and a half, Alex calculated that he had approximately two more hours of oxygen left.

MI6 had been very clear that Alex was to have extra oxygen in case anything went wrong. Apparently they were actually concerned about their best and youngest agent.

Another hour passed as Alex hung helplessly from the rocky point. He had already tried several times, trying to maneuver himself off the rocky tip.

It was getting harder to breathe, and Alex's vision was going fuzzy. His oxygen was definitely running out and since MI6 had not given him a tracking device, Alex felt horribly certain that he would die down here.

He knew it wouldn't be long until he lost consciousness and then suffocated.

One last time Alex panicked momentarily, just before a heavy, dark sleep overwhelmed him.

_**Meanwhile…**_

"Sir, it looks like someone was down here" one of the men came over to Yassen, holding a boy's shirt and sneakers.

Yassen glanced with disinterest at the clothes.

"Get in" he motioned towards the submarine that was being launched into the inky water.

Yassen was sitting in the cream-toned lounge, idly playing with a half-empty glass of vodka. He knew whose clothes those belonged to. _Oh Alex, I thought you were done_, he thought bitterly.

"Sir, it looks like we found the owner of those clothes."

He sighed and got up slowly, not wanting to face this situation.

Yassen swallowed down the bile that rose in his throat, _I'm getting old_, he thought. If he was younger, he never would have felt this way.

He bent over the screen of the monitor in the submarine. He could see a blurry image of a figure hanging down loosely from the ceiling of the tunnel.

"Pick him up" Yassen ordered tersely.

He watched, with bated breath, as the large metal claw slid out and pulled Alex from the tunnel ceiling.

Yassen pushed past his men, storming to the compartment where the claw slid in. Alex's limp body was pulled in, a wave of water washing over his body.

Yassen knelt down and started to do CPR, muttering "c'mon little Alex, c'mon."

At last Alex coughed weakly and opened his exceptionally blue eyes.

"Yassen…" he struggled to breathe as Yassen rolled him on his side.

Yassen pushed Alex's blond hair off his forehead as he picked up the barely conscious boy. His men, though confused, stepped out of the way as Yassen easily carried his bundle into his living space. They knew not to get involved when Yassen had that blank glare on his face.

One of the men ran to get towels and another went to get blankets.

Yassen sat down on the couch with a dripping Alex on his lap. He carefully peeled off Alex's wetsuit and wrapped the shivering teen in a blanket.

"What are you doing here?" he asked softly, "I thought you were done."


End file.
